


Pledge All of My Days

by saisei



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adoption, Episode Ignis, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: In Ignis' mind, his world was very neatly ordered, each member of his family occupying a stable orbit around him.And then he turned five.





	Pledge All of My Days

**Author's Note:**

> Someone really ought to keep me away from Sleeping at Last lyrics.
>
>> Cause you are loved  
> You are loved more than you know  
> I hereby pledge all of my days  
> To prove it so  
> Though your heart is far too young to realize  
> The unimaginable light you hold inside
> 
> Sleeping at Last - Light

Uncle Yllicus visited nearly every weekend for as long as Ignis could remember. Before he even knew what the days of the week were, he understood that if he was dressed in smart clothes before breakfast, then the calm routine of his mother's house would be set on end. There would be loud laughter, and music for dancing, and running games in the courtyard. He'd be allowed to eat pudding before lunch, and was never sent off to nap in the nursery, instead dropping off when he was utterly exhausted and waking held in strong arms, head on a broad shoulder, listening to his mother discussing her latest paintings with Uncle Yllicus.

Ignis' father was never spoken of, which didn't bother him. He simply assumed his father was Uncle Yllicus, and his parents had to live apart because his uncle worked in the city for the king. He found the logic of this satisfactory. Who else gave him presents for his birthday and taught him how to hold a sword? In Ignis' mind, his world was very neatly ordered, each member of his family occupying a stable orbit around him.

When he was five years old, his long hair was cut short, he was fitted for his first school uniform, and he went to live with Uncle Yllicus downtown. Now the two of them visited on the weekends, bringing stories about work and school, and Ignis tried not to cling when they had to leave. He loved his lessons and the library, playing sports with his classmates, even the meals served in the echoing dining hall. But he felt torn in two, a gap widening between him and his mother that he had no idea how to close.

He asked both Uncle Yllicus and his mother why she didn't want to join them, and neither of their answers was satisfactory. His mother said she disliked the bustle of the city – but probably she hadn't been to the good parks or the seafront. Uncle Yllicus talked about art and gallery shows and lessons, taking down the well-worn book of his mother's paintings. When Ignis still wasn't placated, he taught him how to how to hold a ball of magical flame in the palm of his hand ( _but only when I'm here, remember_ ).

Finally, one day over his winter break stay back home, he broke out in inconsolable sobs at the dinner table. Even pulled onto his mother's lap and encircled by her arms he continued to cry, until he was exhausted and could do no more than hiccup in his misery. 

He slept that night in his mother's bed, holding onto her as fiercely as he could. When he woke, she washed his face and had him dress properly for breakfast. "A day well begun is a a day well spent," she said, like she always did, and when he went downstairs, Uncle Yllicus was there already.

Over breakfast, Ignis was told there were two topics they needed to discuss. He lost his appetite, and picked at his eggs in a sulk.

"The last time my sister came to Insomnia," Uncle Yllicus began, and Ignis glanced up at him through the fall of his bangs; he loved stories about Aunt Annis and her exotic adventures outside the wall, "was six years ago. She said to me, _Ylli, does Livia still want a baby?_ – we'd been so sad, for so very long, because we knew your mother could never have children. So I said yes, and she punched me on the shoulder – " Uncle Yllicus gave Ignis a light rap with his knuckles by way of demonstration – "and said, _well, I guess I solved that problem for you._ "

Ignis frowned and kicked his feet, even though he knew that was fidgeting. He thought better when he kicked. But he hated what he was thinking, so he scowled down at his plate. "You're not my mummy?" And that meant Uncle Yllicus wasn't his father, either, which meant Ignis was – did they not want him any more? Thinking about it was like staring down into a bottomless hole.

"Darling." His mother reached over and ran her fingers through his hair. She'd said he looked so grown-up with it short. "I was the _very first_ person to hold you when you were born, and you rarely left my arms for a year. You cried when I set you down – at least, until you learned to walk, and the day after that you were running. Watching you grow is a joy, and I have loved you every second of every minute of every day." She sounded so matter-of-fact, as if she was discussing something as banal as mixing colors or washing brushes, that some of the tightness in Ignis' chest eased.

"That means yes," Uncle Yllicus supplied. "Your mother is and will always be your mother. Sometimes," and Ignis was looking up now, so he saw how his uncle's eyes met his mother's, crinkling in a fond smile, "you find a person and just _know_ that they're yours, to take care of and treasure. You're _our_ treasure."

Ignis made a face – that much sappiness was too embarrassing – and Uncle Yllicus laughed.

"When you find your people, you'll understand," Uncle Yllicus said. "Now, are you going to stop fidgeting and finish your meal properly?"

Ignis picked up his fork, and then put it down again. "What's the other thing?"

"Ah." Uncle Yllicus put his fingertips together and leaned back in his chair, like he was trying to hide a surprise. Ignis was wary: he had had enough of being surprised. "There's a house for sale just outside the city proper. Smaller than here but larger than my flat, with a garden and a sunroom. Your mother could set up a studio there, and you and I would have just a bit longer commute."

Ignis blinked at his mother in surprise. "This is home." He knew all her stories about growing up here, the marks she'd left on the floors and walls, her special places. All the pictures on the walls were pieces of her.

She smiled at him softly, as if she knew a good secret. "Home should be where your family is, don't you think?"

Ignis didn't know how to answer. Somehow, his mother knew this meant a hug would feel good, so she got up to wrap him in her arms, holding him tight. Ignis knew he was a big boy now – all grown up – but he let himself lean his head on her shoulder anyway.

A few months later, Uncle Yllicus took him to the throne room to meet King Regis. Ignis remembered to bow properly, and demonstrated that he could hold fire in both his hands, even handing it carefully to the king when requested, the flames flickering but not going out. When he shook hands with Noctis, entering into service to the Crown, he felt a dizzying rush of magic and emotion. The king's words rang in his ears – "stand by him and lend him a hand, as his friend and as his brother" – but he hardly needed to be told. He just _knew_ , as true and as certain as knowing each day began with the sun.

When Ignis went home that evening, he flew through the front door, kicking his shoes off in haste, and calling for his mother, saying, _Guess what, guess what, guess who I found today._


End file.
